


Auld Lang Syne

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-15
Updated: 2006-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe keeping the Falcon was a mistake.  I think...it'll always be her ship to me.  There are...a lot of memories on this ship.  A lot of memories.  Of her.  Of her and I."  He looked at Locke, the moonlight drawing his face in black and white.  "That's not really fair to us.  To you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auld Lang Syne

"I thought I might find you here," Locke said, smiling. He closed the  
door, leaving the little room in mostly-darkness, except for the  
moonlight coming in through the window. That was ok, though. It was  
all of two paces to the long windowseat, and the entire chamber was  
only slightly longer than the makeshift bed that the windowseat often  
became. The room was tiny, even by the airship's standards, though  
the large window made it seem a bit bigger. Setzer had told him that  
it was a traditional captain's room: a place where the captain could  
rest without missing anything.

Setzer's head turned. "Hi." His voice was soft, and the moonlight  
made his hair gleam silver, picked out the embroidery on his coat. It  
reminded Locke of the night sky beyond the window: silver glinting  
against the black.

"It's nearly midnight," Locke said. "You want to come up?"

"I suppose I should," Setzer murmured to the window. "Host of the  
party and all."

Locke smiled. "They're all so drunk they won't even miss you. Scoot  
over." He slid onto the other end of the windowseat, arranging  
himself around and amidst the tangle of Setzer's legs, his boots  
tucked between Setzer and the windowsill. "There." Locke lifted the  
wine bottle in his hand questioningly, and Setzer held out his glass  
to be refilled. They sat like that for a long moment, gazing out at  
the clouds. Below them, here and there, if they squinted, they could  
see what might be the defiant glimmer of a city against the dark  
earth.

"Anything wrong?" Locke asked, quietly. "S'not like you to leave a party."

Setzer leaned his elbow on the windowsill. "I just...I was thinking  
about her. Being here on the new year's eve.... She used to throw  
parties like this."

"Ah," Locke said to his wine, for lack of anything else to say. He  
tipped the bottle up, swallowing, and smiled. "She sounds like a  
great lady."

Setzer smiled. "She was. You would have liked her. She would cheat  
well at cards and drink both of us under the table."

Locke laughed and watched the memories flow over Setzer's face. It  
made him feel a little helpless, and maybe if he hadn't had most of a  
bottle of wine, it would have made him sad. Or jealous.

Setzer shook himself. "I'm sorry. I seem to talk about her a lot  
onboard...." He smiled at Locke, then turned to the window again, his  
eyes scanning the clouds unseeingly. "Maybe keeping the Falcon was a  
mistake. I think...it'll always be her ship to me. There are...a lot  
of memories on this ship. A lot of memories. Of her. Of her and I."  
He looked at Locke, the moonlight drawing his face in black and  
white. "That's not really fair to us. To you."

Locke swallowed, feeling a thousand different replies in his throat.  
*No, it's not* or *So get rid of it* or *I don't want to compete with  
a dead woman, dammit*. But they were weak, small. He crushed them,  
remembering stumbling up the stairs out of that basement in Kohlingen,  
Phoenix burned into his mind and Rachel's voice in his ears.  
Remembering who was there, waiting. Remembering whose hand gripped  
his shoulder, who let him cling for the long moments until he could  
stand, and then let him keep clinging until he could stop crying and  
face the others.

Locke smiled. "Keep what's important to you. I don't mind." It was  
only a small lie. A very tiny one, much-needed and well worth the  
smile that softened every sharp line on Setzer's face.

*This is me,* Locke thought. *This is me that he's looking at like  
that, right now. Me.*

Setzer looked at his glass, drained it, and set it down on the floor.  
He opened his arms. "Come here."

No one ever needed to tell Locke twice. He went, and with some  
careful maneuvering in the small space, they fit themselves together,  
Locke's arms around Setzer's neck, Setzer's hands on Locke's hips.  
Locke rested his head on Setzer's shoulder, his face buried in his  
lover's neck, and they stayed like that for a long time, enjoying each  
others' warmth as the sky's thin chill leaked in from the window. And  
when Setzer turned his head to catch Locke's lips, they were waiting,  
opening easily.

They made love slowly, languidly, all long, easy strokes and warm,  
sliding touches. They were quiet by silent, mutual agreement, the  
only sounds the squeak of the wood beneath them, the rumble of the  
engines through the walls, the rustle of cloth, and the creak of  
leather. Locke stiffened first, choking on a mewl of pleasure as he  
came in his own hand, then whimpering softly with each thrust as  
Setzer followed him, pleasure flowing around and between and through  
them like fine wine.

After, Setzer pressed his lips to Locke's temple. "We'll just have to  
make some new memories," he murmured.

Locke nodded into his shoulder, a knot he didn't know he carried  
loosening in his chest and falling away.

~End


End file.
